Voldemort's Heartbreaking Plan
by Presence Of Aquarius
Summary: Voldemort is informed that Hermione's intellect is greatly aiding Harry, also that her weakness is 'love'. Voldemort brews a plan to make her dream a reality so clear, so sweet, so full of love that she will forever wish to stay lost in those dreams. DMHG
1. Destroying Hermione Granger

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, this is simply a fan story.**

******A/N - This story was beta read by "Bola".**

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**Chapter One**

**Destroying Hermione Granger**

Voldemort sat in his high backed chair at Malfoy Manor thinking hard. He had to think of a plan to kill Harry Potter. He then turned his gaze to scan the room before him.

A man with very light brown hair was just leaving the room. He had come to speak to Voldemort about a particular potion he had just made. A potion that put its drinker to sleep and brought dreams so realistic that if the drinker ever woke, they would believe that all they had dreamed had been real. In addition, if, and when, they ever found their dreams to be false, their mind would go insane trying to separate what was real, and what was not.

Voldemort's eyes rested on a shock of white hair on the other side of the room. As though Voldemort had called the white haired man's name out, he approached, but was very silent.

After a moment of silence that was thick with unspoken words, Voldemort spoke his command, short and simple, "Bring Draco to me, Lucius."

The man bowed and left the room without a word uttered as to whether he would obey. Voldemort already knew where the loyalties of Lucius Malfoy laid. He would obey him; without question.

Moments passed and Lucius re-entered with his white haired son trailing close behind him looking fairly calm. Voldemort, though, could see the utter terror that bubbled just beneath the surface.

Lucius stiffly shoved his son towards Voldemort; he bowed low, and then stood rigidly straight, his eyes locked on Voldemort.

Voldemort stayed silent for a long time, thinking, and re-thinking about whether or not this boy would be able to provide him with the answers, or answer, that he needed.

"Harry Potter."

Draco's body jolted a bit, obviously he hadn't been expecting Voldemort to speak. He then blinked slowly, twice, and then responded, "Yes, sir? What about Harry Potter?"

Simply by the way Draco spoke the first name, Voldemort knew it was something he wasn't used to. Voldemort didn't know why, but he seemed to take note of such things. He supposed, in this particular case, it was because it gave him insight into Draco's thought of Harry Potter.

"What are your thoughts on him?"

Draco swallowed hard, and then spoke as sweat broke out on his forehead, "He's a teenager, but is only as smart as a child about things in the wizarding world. He thinks he is much better than he is, and flaunts his fame."

Voldemort mulled over this info, "You lie to me?"

Draco froze, "Lie, sir?"

"I have previously been told that Harry Potter isn't inclined to the spotlight of fame," Voldemort spoke slowly, allowing a rare moment of patience.

"At first that was the truth, sir," Draco spoke. His body seemed to relax, almost happy that he could correct information for Voldemort, "But during the last school year, he seemed to be enjoying the fame, or at least the female crowd his fame seemed to attract."

Voldemort nodded slowly, accepting this information as the truth; he saw no falsehood in the young man's eyes, "Anything else?"

Draco took a moment to turn his thoughts over in his head, "I believe that the majority of his more recent fame is misplaced."

Voldemort met Draco's eyes at this, "Really? What makes you say that?"

"He never figures anything out for himself," Draco said, "And I'm sure that all the things he does is all planned by another person."

Voldemort waited a moment, thinking, and then the obvious dawned on him, and he pushed the information from his mind, "We all are aware that Albus Dumbledore sets Harry Potter's plans out for him. Leave."

Draco's face took on a mixed look of confusion and shock before his father grabbed him to throw him from the room.

Voldemort had caught the expression and got to his feet, "Is it someone else who aids Harry Potter more than Albus Dumbledore?"

Draco's father released him, and Draco turned to face Voldemort, and he nodded once, "Yes."

"Tell me, who is this person?"

"Hermione Granger, sir."

The people in the room, who had been talking quieter since the start of Voldemort and Draco's conversation, now stopped talking altogether. They all knew who Hermione Granger was; she was the mudblood.

Voldemort swivelled around, and took placid steps until he reached the wall, and he stared at it as though a plan was appearing on it.

"What do you know about this Hermione Granger? Do you know her weakness?" Voldemort asked his mind on fire with possibilities, "Anything at all. Is there anything that scares her? Tell me everything you know about her."

"Well, her greatest fear seems to be a failing grade, according to the boggart she had to face," Draco said recalling when he watched Granger during the third year Defence Against The Dark Arts come screaming out of the box that contained the boggart saying 'she said I failed'.

Draco went on to speak of her extra strong ties to three specific people.

"Three?"

"Yes, sir, there is Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, and Ginny Weasley."

Voldemort took half a second to absorb this information as useless, "Continue."

"Um, I do recall her proclaiming her greatest weakness to her group of people, but it's silly."

Voldemort finally turned, "What was it?"

"Well, she said that it was 'love', sir," Malfoy said, his eyes revealing that he would've laughed had he not been in the presence of such high power.

"Such a silly thing," Voldemort said, turning back to the wall a furious expression on his face, "_Love_; only a fool would lose themselves to it. There is no way to use love to make her incapable of aiding Harry Potter."

"Actually, it's sort of happened before," Draco spoke up, Voldemort's body turned quickly to gaze at him.

"It's happened before?" Voldemort asked.

Draco nodded, and then shrugged, "Sort of. I remember it being all over the school about her breaking up with Victor Krum, then in class when I saw her she spent more time trying not to cry than doing anything else. She couldn't even focus enough to pay attention to the multitude of things Harry Potter and Ron Weasley were speaking to her about, including you, sir."

Voldemort thought for only a moment before he devised a scheme about how to destroy Hermione Granger by using the foolish emotion of love.

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**A/N - This story was beta read by "Bola".**


	2. Hermione's Head

**Chapter Two**

**Hermione's Head**

Hermione blinked as she sat in the Great Hall during the Welcoming Ceremony. Desserts of all kinds were spread out on the table before her.

Hermione glanced around at her friends, Harry Potter, who sat across from her, with Ginny Weasley sitting at his side. Ron Weasley sat on her left shovelling the variety of desserts, that were on his plate, into his mouth with very little grace; Harry and Ginny had a select few dessert tarts on their plates and were enjoying them in a much more savoury manner then Ron.

Hermione was very confused for some reason; she couldn't understand how she and the others were in Seventh year already, it felt like yesterday she was in potions of sixth year.

Hermione shook her head to rid it of the confusion she felt; all three of her friends noticed, but Ginny was the one who spoke.

"What's wrong, Hermione?"

Hermione's face retained the confused look, but she said, "I guess...I just can't believe we're in our seventh year already...well, except you, Gin."

Ginny pouted and crossed her arms, "Don't remind me. I mean I'm good enough in almost all of my classes to _be_ in seventh year. I mean, I'm even taking seventh year Potions, Charms, and Defence Against the Dark Arts, and that's most of my courses."

Hermione laughed a little, and nodded, "I must say, Ginny, that I agree. You should really be in seventh year."

"It's all because you teach me everything you're learning about," Ginny said, "So, naturally, I'm going to have the brain of a seventh year student."

"Good evening, everyone!" a gentle, yet strong, voice cut through the air from the teacher's table.

Everyone looked over and saw Dumbledore standing before his podium with a smile on his face and famous twinkle in his crystal blue eyes.

"Now, first, some notes for the first years..."

Hermione jumped, and her hand flew to her forehead; the others stared at her.

"Hermione, are you feeling alright?" Ron asked, concern etched deeply on his face.

Hermione was very confused now, as she brought her hand down and stared at its dry state, "My forehead feels damp, and a little cool."

Harry, his face expressing a heavy amount of worry, placed his hand on her forehead, but removed it soon after, shaking his head, "No, it's not, actually it's a little warm if you ask me."

Hermione shook her head, "No, it feels damp to me. I mean, not to my hand, but my forehead, just feels damp. It feels like there's something wet laying on it..."

"If your forehead's warm, maybe you're coming down with something," Ginny spoke up, concern evident on her face too, "It could just be the chills or something like that."

Hermione didn't think that was the case, but decided that, to be safe, she would head for bed, "I think I'll turn in early, then. I don't suppose any of you know the password?"

The three stared at her, and Ginny spoke, "How would we know? Ron and I are only Prefects."

Hermione was confused, and it must of shown because Harry asked, "Did you forget that you're Head Girl, Hermione? Or did you forget that you have to share a common room with that git Malfoy?"

"Head Girl? Wow, I'm really losing it, aren't..." Hermione froze mid sentence, "MALFOY!"

The three jumped, and so did half the students in the Great Hall, including Malfoy who glared at her with disgust before returning to his food. Dumbledore who had been speaking to the students smiled a little, and then began to address them again.

"Chill, Hermione, if he does anything, tell us and we'll deal with it," Ron said, smiling in a creepy way.

Hermione held a hand to her head. For some reason all this information was making her very confused and dizzy, "Then, who would know the password?"

Her three friends looked extremely concerned, as they answered in unison, "Dumbledore."

Hermione sighed. He was still speaking, and she couldn't interrupt him, again. Hermione sat back down, and laid her head on the table, as Harry, Ginny, and Ron watched her with concern.

After what seemed like hours, yet was only five or so minutes, Dumbledore called for Malfoy and Hermione to come to the front, as he dismissed the other students.

"Are you alright, Miss Granger?" Dumbledore asked gently, his eyes quickly taking in her dazed state.

"I think I'll feel better once I lay down," Hermione said, her eyes closed and her hand to her forehead.

When he didn't reply, she opened one eye and looked up at him. The same concern that had shown on her friends' faces, shone in his eyes.

"I'll be fine, Professor," Hermione said, standing up straighter, and putting on a charade of looking to be in good health.

Dumbledore studied her closely through his half-moon spectacles, but eventually nodded, "Alright, Miss Granger, then let's head off to your dormitories, shall we?"

Hermione nodded, "Yes, let's."

Dumbledore nodded, and led the way out of the Great Hall, and towards the stairs.

Hermione, although dizzy and feeling extremely confused, kept careful attention to where they were going, so she'd never get lost during the year trying to find it again.

They turned down a final corner and stopped before a majestic picture of a bull swimming through water with a celestial looking girl riding on his back. Her glossy hair flowed like water behind her. In her arms, she carried a crystal jar that seemed to hold water.

While she gazed upon the picture, Hermione felt her confusion stressed body relax, and she could finally stand with better focus.

Dumbledore smiled at the two students before him, "Are you two wondering why this picture is a bull swimming through water carrying a girl?"

"No," Malfoy answered him smugly.

"Are you a Taurus?" Hermione suddenly asked, gazing at Malfoy with mild interest.

Draco glared at her, "Yes, if you absolutely must know."

"And I'm an Aquarius, which means this is representing our astrological signs...the water and girl for Aquarius and the bull for Taurus."

The twinkle in Dumbledore's eye, which had gone out when the concern for Hermione had come in, shone once more as he noticed that Hermione seemed to be feeling better.

"Correct, Miss Granger," Dumbledore said, smiling, "And your password is _Mother of Gaia_."

Hermione nodded, and spoke, "Mother of Gaia."

The girl turned the opening of her jar towards them and poured it, but instead of pouring water, it poured out the pathway into the Heads Common Room.

Hermione glanced at Dumbledore, who nodded, and she smiled while stepping forward in through the doorway, Malfoy followed her, and Dumbledore followed after him.

Hermione was amazed by the sight. A warm, and very large fireplace stood against the wall across from them, and a handful of comfy-looking over-sized red armchairs were scattered throughout the common room, two of which sat in the warm glow of the blazing fire. Two matching sofas were positioned beside each of the armchairs by the fire with a dark wood coffee table between them. On either side of the fireplace were glass doors that almost reached the high ceiling, and opened onto a magnificent balcony that overlooked the lake and the grounds around, and beyond it. Directly left of the entrance was a kitchenette, its counters tiled in a black and white checkered pattern. Beside the kitchenette was a dining table with six chairs set up around it. Past the kitchenette and dining room was a staircase that went up to two doors. Hermione looked the other way, and found an identical staircase leading to another two doors. Under the banisters to the second floor was a massive selection of books.

"On the left is your bedroom, and bathroom, Miss Granger," Dumbledore explained, "And to the right is yours, Mister Malfoy."

Malfoy took one glance around, shrugged, and then went up to his room and slammed the door shut.

Dumbledore and Hermione stared after him. Hermione felt a little awkward standing there after Malfoy showed such a lack of respect.

"I believe you wanted to turn in early, am I mistaken, Miss Granger?" Dumbledore spoke, a smile still on his face.

"Oh, uh, yes, Professor," Hermione said, and smiled at him, "Thank you."

Hermione waved good bye to Dumbledore as they both turned to go in their own directions. By the time Hermione got to the top of the stairs, Dumbledore was gone.

She noticed her name was engraved into one of the doors, and she entered, knowing it was her bedroom.

It was, to her surprise, not in Gryffindor colors – well no, not really surprised. The silky sheets of her bed were a very light purple color while the quilt on top was a slightly darker shade of purple. Hermione smiled; she didn't know how Dumbledore had managed to figure out purple was her favourite color.

She looked through her trunk that had been brought up and placed at the foot of her bed, and unpacked everything into the cherry wood dresser on the opposite wall of her bed. The dresser had a tall mirror above it, and Hermione took a moment to admire her reflection.

She grabbed her bag of toiletries and headed through the door beside the dresser that she knew connected to her bathroom.

It was pearly white, with gold taps, and other fixtures. Hermione organized her things on the gleaming white bathroom counter, on the racks, and by the shower and very large bath tub.

Hermione had been planning on going right to bed, but upon seeing the bathroom, she decided to relax into a hot bath first. She glanced over the many knobs, and spun a few, and the smell of fresh cinnamon buns filled her nostrils. She let it fill as she went back to her room to grab the fluffy robe Ron had bought for her for Christmas two year ago. She hugged it close to her, the smell of the spring air she had hung it out to dry in the day before was still present in the fabric.

She re-entered the bathroom, and turned off the taps. She laid her robe on a small table by the bath's edge. Hermione undressed in a timely fashion, she let her garments fall to the shiny, white floor beneath her. Submerging herself in the heat of the water, she closed her eyes, and breathed deep. The water worked so quickly at relieving her back muscles of all the stress she hadn't realized she had been carrying.

After Hermione had shampooed, conditioned, and cleansed herself of the daily grime that always found its way to her skin, she emerged, her skin not quite prune texture. She dried herself on one of the many towels that were stacked neatly on a gold, and glass, shelf.

After slipping into the comfy robe she went back to her room, and, forgetting about changing into her pyjamas, or pulling the covers back, she fell onto her bed; far into dreamland long before she got there.


End file.
